


Steady as the Beating Drum

by DwaejiTokki



Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Gen, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwaejiTokki/pseuds/DwaejiTokki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kocoum's side of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady as the Beating Drum

Kocoum had always been a serious boy. Perhaps it came from never knowing his mother, who had died at birth, or from remembering too little of his father, who had died a war hero. It certainly wasn't that he never knew love, though. His grandmother who raised him made sure he was fed and housed, and that he had everything he would need. She practically smothered him with affection, despite the fact that he never reciprocated.

No, it was just his nature.

But his stoicism had nothing to do with his feelings. Kocoum had needs just like every young boy his age. He needed friendship, wanted praise, and loved to climb trees. His favorite meal was roasted bear, but he hated fish - too many bones. He was not very outspoken, and very agreeable in general, but when he had a strong opinion he did not hesitate to speak.

In other words, he was the opposite of Pocahontas.

When Pocahontas was born Kocoum had already been nearly five years of age. He had already learned to make his own arrowheads and how to string the bow. Kocoum could swim, and he could outrun even some of the older boys. But young and adept as he was, Kocoum did not care much for the new addition to the tribe. Babies were squalling little things. So Kocoum did not bother with Pocahontas. 

It was not until Kocoum had reached his twelfth year that he really met Pocahontas. Yes, they'd seen each other around as they grew up (they  lived  in the same village, after all), but they had never had much cause to speak with one another. By this time,  seven  year old Pocahontas was running about freely, her long dark hair dancing behind her. He had never thought much of her at all until she approached him.

"Kocoum!" 

He stopped and lowered his spear, turning from the fish he'd nearly caught. "What is it, Pocahontas?" 

She ran up to him, cheeks bright red from her play of the day. "Come and play," she said, grinning.

He stared at her for a long moment. "Play what?"

"What do you want to play?"

Kocoum was flabbergasted. "You invited me to play, yet you have no chosen game in mind."

"We can play whatever we feel like," she replied. "Or we don't have to play a game at all. We could go swimming!"

"It's much too cold for swimming, Pocahontas," Kocoum said. "We'll get ill."

"We can climb trees!"

"Winter is approaching. The branches are weakening."

"Canoe ride!"

"What if it tips over? As I said, the water is too cold."

"We could run the paths of the forests, Kocoum!"

Kocoum contemplated the activity for a moment, watching Pocahontas watching him expectantly.  Then he nodded in consent. "That sounds...fun, Pocahontas."

The girl beamed at him, then clutched his hand in both of hers. "Let's go, Kocoum!"

He dropped his spear on the bank as she took off, tugging him along with her. Their bare feet pounded along the ground, flattening the cool grass. They  leaped deftly over the holes or sticks that might trip them up. As they ran, a small smile slowly turned up the corners of Kocoum's mouth. He glanced to Pocahontas at his side, her face lit up in joy and breaths huffing. Something warm lit up inside Kocoum's chest, and his feet faltered for a moment in surprise. 

He just as quickly caught up again, though. He was young, but Kocoum knew a good feeling from a bad one, and whatever he felt was by no means bad. So he kept running, hand-in-hand with Pocahontas.

That was only the beginning of Kocoum's crush. As time went on, he often found himself watching her play from afar. When he wasn't training or hunting, he was searching her out. But whenever he found her, he immediately lost his courage and could not approach her. He wanted to run the forest with her again. But it was impossible. Besides, Pocahontas looked as though she would have more fun with her friend Nakoma than with him. So he always settled with watching. He would make sure no harm came to Pocahontas while she played, he reasoned.

A few years passed, and not a day went by that Kocoum didn't wish he could be like Pocahontas. She was so free-spirited and kind, and she could do whatever she want. There were no burdens on her shoulders, no responsibilities but for the ones all women shared. He, on the other hand, felt suffocated by all his expectations. His father had been a warrior, so Kocoum was expected to be, too. And Kocoum, like his father, was a great warrior. He was proud of it, yes. But he was also expected to be a great hunter, to be a great leader, to be strong and wise. Sometimes all Kocoum wanted to do was run away and forget everything.

To be like Pocahontas.

Perhaps that was why he was so intrigued by her, so drawn to her. So in love with her. So much so that sometimes it hurt. But whatever the reason for it, he didn't bother to try and stop the feelings.

Though he found it impossible to approach Pocahontas, it was much easier to talk with her father, Chief  Powahatan . The man was very agreeable, and very taken with Kocoum. Kocoum didn't know whether his favor had been earned or inherited, but in any case it didn't matter much to him. All that he cared was that  Powahatan agreed to give him Pocahontas in marriage. He had thought for days before he asked. Kocoum eventually decided that he would only if the war was won. And it was, indeed.

The whole journey back to their tribe, Kocoum's heart soared. Not only had they won the war, it had been relatively bloodless, and they had lost no warriors on their side. And he would marry Pocahontas. Life was good at last.

And then the white men came. The powerful and dangerous demons from across the sea. Kocoum wanted to destroy them. If these white men were allowed to stay on their shores, they would progress inland and kill them, he was quite certain. There would be bloodshed, there would be war. The village needed to be protected, especially the beautiful Pocahontas. 

So the tribe prepared for war. Their allies were sent for. A wall was constructed to keep the whites out, to hold them at bay. Kocoum, with the other men, sharpened his spears and arrows, restrung his bow. He sparred and hunted to keep his fighting skills quick and strong as a snake. Winter was approaching slowly but surely, like the white men.

Chief  Powahatan requested of Kocoum that he keep Pocahontas safe. Kocoum hadn't needed to be asked. He was always searching for Pocahontas, but she always seemed to be able to sneak away easily. Sometimes Kocoum thought that if she had been born a boy, she would be the best hunter of all of them.

After a long day of trying to find a missing Pocahontas, Kocoum gave up and sat by his fire to sharpen one of his arrowheads. It was then that Nakoma, Pocahontas's friend, approached him. She confessed that Pocahontas had run off with one of the white men, appeared to be friendly with him. In love with him, even.

But that was impossible. Kocoum and Pocahontas were to be married. Pocahontas would never fall in love with a white demon. Kocoum, worried, ran off in the direction that Nakoma had pointed, hoping with all his heart that she was wrong.

It wasn't hard to track them. Heavy, strange footprints led away from the cornfield. It was too easy for Kocoum to follow them into the woods, to find them standing underneath a willow tree. Kissing.

Impossible.

Kocoum's heard shattered instantly, but just as it did it suddenly hardened again in rage. Pocahontas was not in love with that white demon. He had possessed her, perhaps taken her by force. Frightened her into submission. That was not love in her eyes, it was terror.

Whooping his war cry, Kocoum threw himself at John and grappled with him. As a strong warrior and with the element of surprise, Kocoum managed to pin the white man to the ground and draw his dagger. He heard Pocahontas's frantic cries for him to stop, her kitten-like strength trying to pull him off, but he easily brushed her aside. Pocahontas was trapped in some sort of spell, she wasn't in her right mind. Kocoum would free her with the demon's blood.

Just as he was about to cut out the demon's heart, there was a sound like thunder, and Kocoum's strength suddenly flagged. He stood in shock, but then tipped back. He saw Pocahontas out of the corner of his eye and made a grab for her.

His mouth opened to warn her, to tell her to run away, but nothing came out. 

He fell into the darkness's embrace and knew no more.


End file.
